


Turquoise

by shadowcat500



Series: Spectrum Side-Stories [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Dark, Dystopia, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, Getting Together, I'm Bad At Tagging, Injury, No Smut, Origin Story, POV Lesbian Character, Update hama's gay morgan's bi, anyway, end-of-year exams are in two weeks hahahahahaha, ish?, this is like the origin story for cold, well wlw pov, when you think about it at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 04:52:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18793375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowcat500/pseuds/shadowcat500
Summary: Two idiot teenagers meet in what is an objectively terrifying situation and get a massive crush on each other. It works out. (With some help.)





	Turquoise

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me that's how you spell turquoise it's the worst word in the world
> 
> Anyway this is the getting-together prequel to Cold, the fourth fic in this series

They’d come for her because she’d heard a little too much. A conversation between two doctors about the new, “special” kind of age-preventing medication for the Crown Silver’s son, overheard by an intern. Something that was more their fault than hers, really. She always came that way at that time every day, and everyone knew the rooms weren’t soundproofed. It wasn’t her fault they were incompetent! 

All the same, she’d been captured, Disappeared, stolen from her life and family to be erased from the records for a simple mistake. Morgan Amazonite was no fool. She knew that she would never be seen again. The Disappearances were too common for her not to know that. But still, she couldn’t help but be nervous, after all who wouldn’t be nervous about what would most likely be their own execution?

“Amazonite, #0136G64G56SKC15.” Morgan jumped. She hadn’t noticed the doctor at the end of the bed. 

“Uh, yes?” She responded, unsure as to whether it was a question or a statement. 

The doctor nodded and scribbled a few things on their clipboard. “Come.” They turned around and began to walk off. Morgan quickly shuffled out of bed and began to run after them. 

“Hey!” The doctor whipped around again, and Morgan finally got a good look at their face. Their hair was closely cropped and postbox-red, with lime-green eyes framed by frankly pretty well-done eyeliner. They were, admittedly, kind of cute. (What? She _was_ seventeen. And they _were_ cute.) “-ite? Morgan!” Morgan jumped backed again as the doctor snapped their fingers in her face again. “I said you shouldn’t be running so soon after the surgery. You’ll overbalance. You’re taller, so your centre of balance is off from what you’re used to.” 

“Oh. Sorry?” Morgan really wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Don’t be. You did remarkably well, considering.” The doctor turned back around, before holding out a hand to her. “Hold my hand, or you’ll fall.”

 

***

 

“The gist of it is, obey or your family gets hurt.” finished Chaser. Morgan sat there in silence. The red-headed doctor had sat her down in his office, introduced himself as Chaser (he’d refused to tell her his last name) and told her that she’d been Disappeared (that much she’d figured out), that she’d been turned into a Grey, and then... that. 

“Well, that’s something.”

“Mm-hm.” He nodded.

“How hurt is ‘hurt’?”

“Broken bones. Punctured lungs. Internal bleeding. Et cetera.”

“Ah.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“How old are you?”

“Huh?”

“How old are you? You look my age, but I can’t tell, really.” repeated Morgan.

“I’m nineteen. I was Disappeared at the same age you are now.” 

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “And you’re already allowed to welcome other Greys?”

“It’s more like... a thing we have here. You know back in school when you were new you’d get a buddy that was like a year older than you to help you settle in? It’s like that.”

“We never had that system in my school.”

“Um. Well do you get the gist of it?”

“Definitely.”

“Anyway, will you obey the orders of your handlers, protect New Bliss et cetera et cetera? If you don’t they’ll use 15-75.”

“15-75?”

“Addi- I’m not allowed to tell you that.” Chaser cut himself short.

Obey or the mysterious they will use the mysterious 15-75. Morgan didn’t want to find out what that did, at least not through personal experience. “Will I be able to continue my medical studies?”

“Definitely, likely with even more freedom than you would outside of the Grey Initiative.” 

Good deal. Alright then. “I’ll obey. I’ll willingly join the Grey Initiative.” 

“You will?” Chaser looked relieved. Almost worryingly so.

“Yes.”

“Thank god!” Chaser put his head down on the table and combed his hands through his hair for a few seconds before sitting back up again. “Thank _god_.”

Huh? “What’s so great about that? I just agreed. Were they gonna kill you or something if I didn’t?” Immediately afterwards Morgan realised that they may have actually planned to do that, even if she’d said it as a joke.

“Maybe. They just said there would be ‘Consequences’. You know, the kind with a capital c.” 

“Oh.” Oh god. Slightly less good deal.

“Anyway, let’s get you to your department. Apartment. Place to sleep. We need to find out where it is.” Chaser fumbled slightly getting out of the chair, but still offered Morgan a hand getting out of hers, which she accepted gladly. Manners cost nothing after all, and who knows when she would meet someone like Chaser again. 

 

***

 

“Morgan Amazonite. #0136G64G56SKC15.” Morgan snapped to attention. “Your partner will be Hama Frostkin. #0127BR12BL56SKM27. Both of you, assigned to Room 235, and you will be joined by-” Morgan tuned out the rest of the assignment, and walked over to the point she was directed to, turned to her partner, and choked- Hama was one-hundred-percent, undeniably, _extremely_ cute. Eyes as deep as the summer sky, hair the colour of coffee grounds and _very_ nice arms accompanied by a fondness for not wearing sleeves from what Morgan could tell from the fact that Hama had pulled the sleeves of her shirt up over her shoulders. 

“ _fuck._ ” whispered Morgan.

 

***

 

Hama got kidnapped, fine, yeah, normal to be honest. But waking up in a hospital ward was a new one. Being told she was a Grey (which she’d discounted as an urban legend two years ago when she first heard of them) was also a bit odd, but realising she definitely was one now? That knocked everything out of the park. She’d agreed to obey, might as well figure out what was going on before she jumped ship, and been dragged off by a person who introduced themselves as Janus (talk about symbolism) with long blue hair tied in a plait behind their back, to “partner assignment”. She’d pulled the sleeves of the dark grey t-shirt they’d given her up on the way (sleeves suck) and seen a few others who’d done the same thing in the small crowd of people also there for “partner assignment”.

“-Hama Frostkin. #0127BR12BL56SKM27. Both of you, assigned to Room 235, and you will be joined by-” Hama tuned out the rest of the announcement and made her way over to the place she’d seen other people who’d got their assignments walk over to. It wasn’t more than twenty seconds after she got there when a really, _really_ cute girl with curly hair the colour of jay-tree leaves in spring and eyes like storm clouds walked over, looked over at Hama, and promptly turned scarlet. Hama was fully aware that she probably had a similar look. After a few seconds, she managed to choke out “P-partner?”

 

***

 

“P-partner?” Hama choked out, cheeks scarlet. 

“ _Fuck._ ” muttered Morgan, before inhaling and continuing. “My name is Morgan Amazonite. I’m guessing you’re Hama Frostkin?”

Hama nodded. “Nice- nice to meet you.” The flush to her cheeks hadn’t faded yet. 

“We’re in Room 235. Do you want to head over or...?”

Hama _refused_ to let herself think about what that “or...?” could mean. “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

\---

 

MORGAN AMAZONITE  
#0136GRE64G56SKC15  
DESIGNATION: BLUE  
DOB: 18/5/3124  
DOC: 23/8/3141  
UNUSUAL TRAITS: Unusually high speed, and accelerated reaction to threats. Projected to be a recon type.  
Currently un-tested in the field, but has proven competent in simulations and training.

HAMA FROSTKIN  
#0127BR12BL56SKM27  
DESIGNATION: TURQUOISE (YELLOW)  
DOB: 9/1/3124  
DOC: 23/8/3141  
UNUSUAL TRAITS: Enhanced strength, hearing and night vision. Projected to be a combat type.  
Currently un-tested in the field, but has proven competent in simulations and training.

CHASER CATCH  
#009R23GRE5SKC9  
DESIGNATION: N/A (CAPTURED BLANK)  
DOB: 5/10/3122  
DOC: 2/11/3139  
UNUSUAL TRAITS: Enhanced healing. Stealth type.  
Healing has been proven to be a problem in the case of broken bones: the break heals incorrectly if not set within three minutes, but can be re-broken and healed correctly if the medic can work fast enough. This issue has been resolved with automatic bone-setting in later Greys.  
Healing appears to render most anaesthetics ineffective. Specialise new, stronger anaesthetic for future Greys.  
Healing activates only when there is no obstruction (eg a bullet) in the wound. Scars easily.

 

\---

 

“This is your handler, kids, say hello.”

The tall, dark-haired, chalk-pale person with a scarred face dressed completely in black that strolled into the room was exactly what Hama had pictured when Chaser had said that their handler was called Crow. “I swear everyone who calls themselves Crow looks the same.”

“Snarky. Good trait, means they didn’t fuck up your brain too bad, but don’t use it on superiors. Not everyone is lenient.” Crow’s voice sounded feminine, and carried the authority of commanding officers on spaceships in action movies. “How many Crows do you know?”

“Like eight, and you could all be siblings. I know they’re lucky birds and all with a cool aesthetic, but why the vampire look? I’ve never understood it.”

“It looks cool. Anyways,” Crow turned to the rest of the room. “my name is Crow, and I am your handler. That means I’m the one that handles missions, team-building exercises and am the responsible adult. Come to me with questions. Speaking of, any questions? None? Good.” Crow hadn’t paused at all. “Now, we’ll be doing roll call so everyone hears everyone’s name at least once. Now, starting with Avia Swokker. Go!”

A pale girl with lilac hair in a ponytail stood up. “Avia Swokker. Bl-”

“Nope.” Crow interrupted.

“What did I do, miss- uh, sir..?”

“Your Colour, in the few legal documents that remain about you, is now Grey. Say, uh, your favourite animal instead. And call me Crow.”

Avia nodded. “I’m Avia Swokker. My favourite animal is penguins, because they always looked so cute in the old photos!”

Crow nodded. “Next!”

 

***

 

Three weeks after their first introduction, a friendship had developed between Hama and Morgan. Well, “friendship” was one way of putting it. A more accurate way of putting it was a positive relationship with a lot of “I may have a massive crush on you and have no idea how to mention it to you” tension mixed in, forged through many awkward training and team-building exercises. Chaser had only been sitting with them for five minutes and he could already feel it in the air thick enough to cut through with a blunt spoon. 

The awkward giggling had been happening every twenty seconds for _three minutes straight_.

Chaser rapidly came to the conclusion of sending the two out on a solo mission as soon as possible, at the very least to clear the air. It really was a _lot_ of tension.

 

***

 

Chaser did not intend to be sent on the mission as well. It was decidedly no longer a solo mission. More a trio mission. Not having an official partner sucked.

 

***

 

Made into a living weapon, and _still_ stuck on guard duty. Some things never change. Two hours Hama’d been stuck out here in an abandoned building site, and at this point she was thinking of heading in just out of sheer boredom. They didn’t even give her her smartscreen back! Talk about rude.  
Chaser and Morgan were in there, on their own, no backup since Hama’s earpiece was on the blink and Hama doubted that she’d even be able to hear them yell if -

**BANG**

The sound of a gunshot split the air like a fist through glass. Hama shot to attention, adrenaline shooting through her veins in a tidal wave. 

“Morgan!” Hama flung the door to the building open and sprinted through dark rooms filled with crates. There were patches of blood on the floor that Hama ignored as she continued onwards, her new reflexes the only thing keeping her from tripping. 

 

***

 

This had been a shitshow from the start.

Well, not really. At the start, it had been going surprisingly well: she and Chaser had gone through the building stealthily till around the fourth floor, where they’d been spotted and Morgan’s “I don’t particularly want to get shot even though Chaser says it’ll be fine” reflex kicked in and she’d dragged Chaser behind her as she fled at top speed. Chaser had actually managed to stand up when she climbed a flight of stairs to the fifth floor, and had been trying to make her stop running so fast and also let go of his wrist please you’re stronger than you used to be Morgan please stop you’ll probably break it Morgan-

“Morgan!” She heard Hama yell from several floors down.

“Hama!” Morgan screamed out in return, probably blowing out one of Hama’s eardrums if her earpiece was working.

“Best escape route is probably the window at the end of the hall.” muttered Chaser behind her. 

 

***

 

Hama burst out onto the first floor terrace of the building and threw her gaze around, scanning the area in a matter of seconds. No one was there, besides the group of sparrons that flew off squawking when she screamed her partner’s name again. 

“Hama!” Hama heard Morgan’s staticky voice through the earpiece.

Hama yelled back. “Morgan! First floor terrace!”

“Catch Morgan! I’ll be fine!” Chaser’s earpiece was working too, apparently.

“Catch Morgan? What do you mean-” Hama was cut off by the sound of shattering glass and the sight of two figures jumping out and hurtling towards the terrace. Morgan was the one on the left, Hama could tell that by the colour of her hair, and so she began sprinting towards where Morgan was falling to. 

 

***

 

Morgan was never going to follow Chaser’s advice ever again. First the windows had stung like hell to dive through (feet first next time, diving through headfirst is how  
you slice up your face and also get a concussion), and now she was falling at least thirty meters to someone’s arms which could stop her from hurtling head-first into the ground, hopefully. 

Ten metres till impact.

Five metres till impact.

Three.

Two.

One. 

Hama leapt up to catch Morgan in a perfect bridal carry before rolling out the momentum, which honestly speaking was rather impressive. Rolling without dropping the person you’re holding is surprisingly difficult, not to mention her doubts about Chaser’s “jump out the window and make Hama catch Morgan” plan even working.

Speaking of Chaser, both Hama and Morgan heard a thump, a crack and a muffled curse to their left, and Hama whipped round to see Chaser sitting on the ground with one of his bones sticking out of his ankle. 

 

***

 

Getting back to the hovervan with Chaser proved to be a surprisingly difficult feat, considering everyone involved was a superhuman living weapon, and two of them were trainee doctors. Chaser wouldn’t shut up about how he didn’t have the automatic bone-setting ability they both had, Morgan was silently determined, and Hama was the only one actually keeping an eye on their surroundings. It was the eighth time they almost tripped when she finally snapped and told Morgan to look where she was going, but Morgan hadn’t even twitched. Even when she yelled loud enough that Chaser actively flinched away (Hama did kind of feel bad about that, even if it was technically Chaser’s fault that this was even happening now). 

 

***

 

They’d made it to the hovervan in one piece, no thanks to the stairs, and once they were back to base Chaser’s ankle had been set within minutes of arriving at the medical wing and according to the doctors his healing factor should have it healed within a day. Hama had spaced out during the explanation, but had managed to get those bits of key information before losing interest entirely. Instead she’d filled her time wondering if the mission was successful or not and looking at Morgan’s extremely cute face. Had Morgan and Hama taken out enough people to make the rest possible for the regular police and SecurityBots to manage? Had Chaser’s injury made the mission a failure? Had-

“Hama!” Morgan snapped her fingers in Hama’s face. “We can go see Chaser now!”

“What yes I know I was listening I-”

Morgan dragged her inside the room with a sigh. 

Chaser was sitting up in bed scrolling through a holopad disinterestedly. “You’ll be glad to know the mission was a success.”

“You good?” 

Chaser looked up, a little surprised. “What- yes. I’ll be fine in a bit. If they did one thing right when they made me a Grey it was with my healing ability.” He laughed slightly.

“Did you genuinely think it was a good idea to jump out a window to escape?” Morgan pulled up a seat and sat down. 

“Not particularly, but you were going very fast and we couldn’t exactly turn around.”

Hama followed Morgan and sat in another chair. “Was my headpiece working on your end?”

“I couldn’t hear your voice through it, but I assume you could hear ours.” 

“What was with the “catch Morgan I’ll be fine” thing? I could probably have handled it.”

Chaser gestured at his ankle, which was currently wrapped in bandages. “Look what happened to me. That could have been your neck. All in all, the mission was a success. Not a perfect one, but good for your first real mission.”

Hama gave Morgan a high-five, before giving Chaser one too.

And thus began the awkward silence.

“Is the... is this conversation over?”

“I think so. You two can go if you want. But before you go...”

Hama stopped getting out of her seat. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Chaser ran his fingers through his hair for a second, before sighing. “Look. It’s insanely obvious that you two have massive crushes on each other. Resolve it. Please. For everyone’s sake.”

“Oh. Um. Ok.” Morgan went scarlet, and Hama knew for a god damn fact that she looked the same.

 

***

 

“So.”

“So.” 

They’d gotten permission to go on a partner recon mission together, or at least that was the official wording. It was really a “sit in a cafe and pick up the bugs that were planted earlier when it closes” mission, and Morgan was absolutely certain that Chaser had spoken to Crow to get them placed on this specific mission, because Crow had ruffled their hair before they left on the hovervan and told them to have a nice chat in the cafe, and that their thumb accounts had money if they wanted to buy anything.  
And thus they were in a cafe on what seemed very much like a date.

“Chaser said that we both have a crush on each other.”

“Yup.”

“Is it true on your end?”

“Is it true on yours?”

“...yeah.”

“Same.”

“Do you wanna like... kiss or-”

“ _Yes._ “

 

***

 

“Have they kissed yet?” Chaser was still stuck in the medical wing, since the doctors had finally decided that it was worth putting an auto-bone-setter feature into him now, the eighth time he’d broken a bone and they’d had to re-break it and cause everyone a lot of unnecessary hassle (and him a lot of unnecessary pain. What was _wrong_ with the anaesthetics they used?). He was stuck on bed rest for a few days till his body had adapted properly.

“Yup. They are now buying a couples’ ice cream.” Crow responded, showing him the ServingBot video feed she’d hacked on her holopad.

“Finally. Have you ever had a couples’ ice cream?”

“Yup. They’re great, strawberry is my favourite kind of ice cream and there’s always a ton of chocolate in there too. As well as there being twice as much as normal.”

“Same here. Remember back before there was this great cafe that sold couples’ _everything_ at Valentines? Good times.”

“Have you ever seen the post-Valentines sales? Mad cheap chocolate, it’s just all heart-shaped. It’s great.”

 

***

 

“So you two are dating now?”

“Yeah.” Hama and Morgan replied in sync.

Chaser had finally been allowed to leave the medical wing, and the three were sitting in the cafeteria at lunch time. It was self-heating food today, so a lot a people (funny, when did Morgan start thinking of them as people and not Greys?) had left to eat outside or in their rooms.

Chaser drummed his fork on the lid of his curry as it heated up. “Finally. You have no idea what special kind of hell watching you two stumble around each other was. It was quite humiliating for you to be honest. I took footage.”

“You what.”

Chaser pulled out his holopad.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading thank you and goodnight please like and subscribe
> 
> Kudos and comments (no matter what you have to say trust me even if it's just a keysmash i will cry with happiness) greatly appreciated


End file.
